Kira Game
by Brain Eater Jr
Summary: AU whodunnit: On his 15th birthday, Mello and another WH resident receive pieces of the Death Note from a man known as Kira. After that, it's an all-out fight for death and survival. Can you tell who's who in the Kira Game?
1. 01: Burden in my hand

**Kira Game **

Chapter 01: Burden in my Hand

* * *

_Rm. 316, Dormitory Building__  
Whammy's House  
Winchester, England  
13__th__ December 2004 _

_Dear Mello:_

_First of all, greetings! You must be surprised to receive a handwritten letter such as this during this day and age. I cannot fathom the extent of confusion or suspicion that you must be going through at this moment. It must be a sight to behold. I hope that despite this, you find it in yourself to keep on reading this letter. After all, it is terribly significant for you and your life, in more ways than you can imagine._

_Next, congratulations on your fifteenth birthday! Again, this might come as an unpleasant surprise for you—I know that people who know personal details such as birthdays are considered by Whammy's House residents as enemies. However, you have nothing to fear, Mello. I am definitely not your enemy. I know that it may be difficult to accept, but believe me when I say that you have no choice when it comes to this matter._

_The point of the letter is this: I humbly ask you to accept the birthday gift that I sent you along with this letter._

_It may not be apparent at this time, Mello, but this gift of mine is one of the grandest, most amazing things that this world has ever seen… well, I suppose that comes from the fact that it is "out of this world," so to speak… ha, ha, ha! In any case, this small rambling of mine shall make sense once you look over the gift I have sent you. _

_You must know that this gift is not for anybody else to use. If that were the case, then there will be disastrous consequences. Do you understand? This gift should not be possessed by just anybody, and certainly not just anybody among the pupils of Whammy's House. This should only be used by persons with _ability. _And so I have chosen you among all the rest to receive this gift, because I have _that _much faith in you. I know that you will make good use of it._

_All I ask of you, Mello, is that when you make a decision regarding my gift, take the whole matter seriously. If not, then I'm afraid that this effort of mine to befriend you shall be for naught. I shall be forced to withdraw the gift from you. _

_Regards, _

_Xavier Voltaire, II_

* * *

"… Are you kidding me?"

It was too early to read something as weird as this. His head strangely light, the young boy tried to relieve the stinging in his eyes by closing them.

It was exactly 1 AM when Mello woke up and found the letter on his desk, a mere hour after he turned fifteen. As if without warning or fuss, it lay serenely on a spot where it caught the light from the moon and the stars, which made the white A4 envelope glow unnaturally.

He found it hard to comprehend how it got there, and when—after all, he didn't sense anybody going into his room after he fell asleep, and he only woke up because he needed to go to the toilet.

_Somebody's pulling my leg here._

He read the letter once, twice, three times over. Nope, the birthday message was as absurd as ever. If he weren't dreaming, he was looking at the real thing. _._

_So… this Voltaire guy knows my alias, and that the 13__th__ of December is my birthday. He knows that I am in Whammy's House, and that I am staying in this room. He also probably knows that I am the second heir to the name of L. And yet he's hinting that he's somebody I've never met before…more importantly, that he's a stranger who has dangerous abilities. _

_This guy… if he really _is _a guy… he's got nice handwriting. It's as good as calligraphy, actually. This letter must have been written with an expensive pen. _

He shook his head, as if willing his brain to awaken.

_Whatever—why am I taking this seriously? It's probably Matt… but he can't write this neatly, so he must have gotten Linda to help him. But he couldn't have known that today is my birthday, unless…_

He sighed. It was too early for such analyses.

Giving up temporarily on the letter, Mello decided on looking at the so-called gift first before anything else.

With two fingers, he pulled out a smaller black envelope from inside the white one. He turned it over to look for any signs of writing, but the surface was smooth and undisturbed.

_It looks like a sinister birthday card could be inside it… _

There were two items in the envelope: a black booklet with nothing on the covers, and five sheets of ruled notebook paper. One of the edges of the papers was torn evenly—it looked like they were ripped carefully from a class notebook.

Mello looked at them with distaste, put them haphazardly on his desk, and opened the booklet. The first thing he read was

_Death Note: How to Use It _

_I. The human whose name is written in the Death Note shall die _

He frowned when he read it. He kept on frowning as he read all the rules in the black booklet. Ridiculous as it all sounded at past one in the morning, it didn't take much for the young prodigy to understand, absorb, and memorize all the rules listed in the booklet, even in his half-awake state.

He reached for the sheets of paper on his desk and touched the torn edges.

_So, Voltaire, this grandest and most amazing thing that you're raving about is the Death Note. And these must be sheets from that notebook, and you want me to make good use of them… so are you saying that you want me to kill? _

It was dark, cold and silent, and to make noise would probably wake up some of the grumpy kids next door. Despite all that, Mello laughed out loud and long.

Ridiculous, that's what it was!

Whether the Death Note was real or not didn't matter. He just turned fifteen an hour and forty-five minutes ago, and suddenly some guy was telling him "Happy Birthday! Here are some pieces of paper. Now go out there and kill!"

It just seemed right for him to laugh at that time.

* * *

In Whammy's House, children were given the freedom to study wherever they pleased. Most of them were systematic, and thus chose the study hall or their own dorm rooms as work areas. But during that time, the younger kids had exams and requested to have the study hall all to themselves. Thus, the older kids had to use other places for their studies.

At precisely six o'clock in the evening, seven residents from Whammy's House were in the living room. It was the warmest there, it seemed, and Mello used his 'influence' to shoo the other kids away from this area. He only allowed a few people to stay: Matt (his personal sidekick) and those who were too stubborn to move from the area (namely, Linda and Near).

Huge hardback textbooks, neat lecture print-outs, notebooks, highlighters, pencils, and chocolate wrappers were scattered around each kid. Each school item had worn-out looks about them, as if thoroughly exhausted from excessive use. Near was the only one who didn't seem like he was working too hard on his studies: he alternated between writing a comprehensive report for Chemistry class and creating a colourful fortress made out of Lego blocks.

Matt groaned loudly and threw his pencil on the floor. "Damn it… all these words are making me sick," he said with a deadpan voice.

No-one made any effort to respond to him.

"Huh… nice talking with you guys, really. You guys sure know how to make a guy feel better."

…

"Fine, fine, I won't babble about uselessly anymore… so long as one of you turn on the TV."

Linda sighed a little too loudly and said, "Matt, what sort of study habits do you have? You can't watch TV and study at the same time!"

"Hey, I'm great at studying. I beat you, don't I?"

Linda scowled and puffed her cheeks in annoyance. It seemed that whatever Matt said was a ridiculous truth that she couldn't escape.

Matt laughed. "Ah, Linda dearest, don't look at me with such scorn! I'm sure you'll do great in the next exams… I'll even get some of the questions wrong for you, if you like—"

"Shut up and look at the television," snapped Linda. She grabbed the TV remote control and pointed it at the TV screen. A split-second later, it went to life.

_"Good evening, and welcome to World Watch. The President of the United States, today, stated that…"_

"The news? Booo-ring," said Matt. The lower half of his face didn't hesitate to show disgust. "Too serious, man… I need to de-stress and all that, political science is killing me! Hey, Linda, can you switch it to Cartoon Network or something?"

Linda, who was stressed beyond reason for their exams within the next two weeks, only needed to glare once at Matt to make him go, "All right, sheesh, don't blame me if you get wrinkles this early." After that, she went back to writing onto her notebook.

"_A series of deaths in certain companies in Japan has been linked to the Yotsuba group, which has profited from…"_

All the words on the page blurred, and all the figures and images turned into incomprehensible tangles. Mello felt his eyes sting with exhaustion. He closed his Molecular Biology textbook, shut his eyes, and pressed the space on the middle of his brow.

_Exams, exams, nothing but fucking exams. Why am I doing this again?_

The drone of the anchorwoman on the BCB news did nothing good for his dully frustrated thoughts: whatever Yotsuba was, it was a pretty boring story.

_Right. All I want is to beat that shrimp. _

Without thinking, Mello's eyes opened and drifted over to the gigantic Lego fortress on the side. It was difficult to see what Near was doing, but it seemed that he was back to writing his report.

_Damn it. He's not even trying to work on his homework. And he's beating the shit out of me. _

The Yotsuba story was finally over, and the anchorwoman's stern face presented itself to the audience. "_In the City of London, the popular DJ Meteor Garden, who is said to have raped and brutally murdered Ally Shell, the lead singer of the rock band The Red Hearted Crows, dodged a guilty verdict, and consequently, death penalty…"_

"Whoa. I like the Red Hearted Crows," said Matt, with a voice that seemed to float uselessly away from the noise in the living room. Nobody took notice of his stray remark. Death: it was just one of those things…

_"That guy… he doesn't deserve to go free, you know… he was obviously guilty! I…" _a teary-eyed relative of Shell sobbed. _"He does it for fun… and he's going to do it again, I know he will…"_

Mello looked up, and at that split second, the clip with the crying lady ended. He found himself staring into the annoyingly smug smile on Garden's face, as he paraded himself among rows and rows of news cameras.

He opened his Molecular Biology notebook and found one of the sheets of the Death Note, tucked in neatly between two unassuming pages, practically begging for attention.

_Write on it._

He looked over to the others in that living room: Matt, who was twirling a pen between his fingers and staring dully at his notes with his mouth half-open; Linda, who was diligently making notes for Criminology class; and finally, Near, who was rearranging the blocks of one of the walls in his fortress.

"_Coming up next: an exclusive interview with Meteor Garden."_

In his mind, the neat, curly handwriting of Voltaire scrolled. _Come on, Mello. You know you want to. _

He blinked once to clear his head and wrote down _Meteor Garden _on the piece of the Death Note.

* * *

"_Right here, we have DJ Meteor, who is ready to say his version of the story. Good evening, Mr. Garden."_

_"Good eve—"_

As fast as he wrote down the name a mere forty seconds ago, it seemed that the actual death came swiftly and easily.

Mello's eyes widened, ever so slightly, as Garden started screaming and frothing at the mouth. He clawed at his chest desperately, as if there were a caged animal inside that begged to be set free.

And just like that, he dropped on the floor, gave one violent twitch, and died.

The interviewer screamed, and then the screen turned grey. The channel's logo and the sentence "We'll Return Shortly" flashed on screen. A hideous but steady beeping sound filled the empty space.

"D… damn," uttered Matt. His mouth was half-open again, this time due to shock. His eyes remained fixated on the screen, which didn't change.

Linda and Near also looked up at the TV screen—Linda, with a look of surprise on her face, as if she were caught off-guard, and Near, with a genuinely curious expression, comparable to a cat watching a fish take its last gasps for breath..

Mello also faced the TV screen, but he focused more on composing himself. God knows that he was so terrified that even his heart shook in terror. His thoughts spiraled and churned and threatened to burst, like a flood in a paper cup.

_I have to assume that I killed that guy... no, do I have to act like a criminal now? Oh shit, I don't know what to do… did I really kill that guy? Did I do that, just by writing down his name on a piece of paper?!_

But all the same, he couldn't show this to the others in the room.

Linda made a noncommittal sound, which got everyone's attention. She then pointed the remote at the screen and switched it to another news channel. "They're probably going to talk about it here later, when the word gets out… let's just watch out for it."

Before she spoke, the air seemed abnormally tense that even Near seemed to freeze inside his Lego fortress. After she spoke, the tension broke, and all they could do is to agree wordlessly.

In this channel, a calm-looking anchorwoman with a beautiful mole recited the news: "… _you are still watching the case involving Otoharada Kuro, a Japanese man responsible for six deaths in the Shinjuku area of Tokyo. He is currently holding hostage twenty Japanese and English children and two school teachers at a daycare centre. He is shouting out demands to the Japanese Police, who are having a difficult time convincing him to get out of the building…"_

"Live from Japan? That's pretty weird," commented Matt, in a voice that didn't seem to belong to him.

Everyone's eyes were transfixed on the screen. (Well, at least, that's what Mello assumed.)

"_Otoharada, in a drunken rage, attacked six pedestrians with a kitchen knife, resulting to six deaths and two severe injuries. NPA Vice-Chief Yagami Souichirou said…"_

The news item was flaunted for around a couple of minutes. After that, there was an awkward pause.

The anchorwoman bowed down momentarily, nodded, and then faced the camera again. _"This just in: in an interview show on BCB, DJ Meteor Garden, who was released from charges of murder and rape, died on the spot. It seems that the cause of death was a heart attack. Forensic experts are called to investigate this matter, however…" _

A clip of the interview was shown. There was the standard greeting from the interviewer, the hanging _good eve _from DJ Meteor's mouth, and then the chaos that happened afterward.

After this, the screen returned to the anchorwoman. _"The BCB interviewer, Missy Marple, says that there was something strange about the death. According to her, Garden did not seem to be under stress, nor did he seem to have any physical ailment that would induce a heart attack like that. It is her belief that—"_

Again, another strange pause. This time, the calm look on her face vanished, to be replaced by a slightly terrified one. This only happened for a short moment—she composed herself and looked at the camera, this time with eagle eyes.

There was something climactic in those eyes. Somehow, they looked… _accusatory. _What, did somebody tell her that this Meteor Garden guy died by the Death Note, and that they knew who did it?Mello had a terrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he looked at the anchorwoman's face, and dreaded what came out of her mouth next.

"_This just in: The hostage situation in the Pink Tree Daycare Centre in Japan is over. Otoharada Kuro inexplicably dropped dead inside the building." _

"… what?"

Zoom in to Mello's face: a look of pure, untainted, absolute confusion.

* * *

When Mello returned to his room after an awkward dinner, he found a white envelope on his desk. Again, it had that unassuming look on it, which seemed to claim that it had been there all along.

Annoyed, Mello tore the side open and fumbled for the letter inside. This letter was slightly different—instead of neat handwriting, it was typewritten. However, Mello had enough reason to believe that it came from the same person:

_Rm. 316, Dormitory Building__  
Whammy's House  
Winchester, England  
13__th__ December 2004 _

_Dear Mello:_

_Thank you for using your gift. When I watched the news, I knew that it had to be your doing. It must feel strange, right? Perhaps you feel an overwhelming fear, or else an abnormal excitement, one that feels impossible to contain? Do not worry. These are just feelings, and they will pass. So long as you keep on writing names on the papers I gave you, they will vanish, and you will return to your logical self. _

_There is something that I have to tell you, and it is this: because you have used my gift (and quite well, I must add), you have entered the Game. _

_What is the Game, you ask? It is simple: Death. Survival. _

_It's the simplest kind of game, with minimal rules and almost no constraints. The only rules you have to follow are the rules of the Death Note, and the only thing you have to do to win is to keep on using the Death Note. _

_And of course, what is a game without a playmate? In this case, a challenger. Yes! I believe that you might have noticed it during the time, Mello—I noticed that look on your face when Otoharada Kuro's death was reported on the news show… Then again, you could have attributed the second death to me. But I will tell you now, that is not the case!_

_The fact is, there's another one among you with the Death Note, and right now the person is most probably reading a letter, much like this one, which also warns him about another Death Note user. I can tell you in all honesty that you are both on level ground—you both know all the rules of the Death Note, and you each have the same number of Death Note pages with you. More importantly, I am confident that you both do not know who the other is!_

_That's it, Mello! Remember that this is not the kind of game wherein you can win without thinking. There is a reason why I chose you for your ability. I trust that you will use that ability to its fullest capacity._

_Those are all the details that I can tell you right now, Mello. Please do your best in the game. A lot of people are counting on you to win. _

_(Also remember: Death. Survival. If you keep on repeating this to yourself, there is no way you can lose.)_

_Wishing you all the best, _

_Xavier Voltaire, II. _

_P.S. If I find out that you are not using the Death Note as you should, I will kill you. _

_- Chapter 01 end - _

Notes: This story was slightly inspired by "Liar Game".

Yes, the guy's name is Meteor Garden. And yes, I got it from the Taiwanese soap opera of the same name. Don't ask me why.

I hate first chapters. I get so anal about making everything perfect, that halfway through I get so exhausted that I can't think straight, and I can't write the next parts properly, so I end up rushing through everything and ARGH. Man. I need a beta-reader. :s

Anyway, I hope the story sounds promising so far. Please watch out for the next chapter! :D


	2. 02: Red Mosquito

**Kira Game**  
Chapter 02: Red Mosquito

_(I was bitten, must have been the devil  
He was just plain mean  
A little visit reminded me of his presence  
Letting me know, he's awaiting…)_

* * *

_Rm. 316, Dormitory Building__  
Whammy's House  
Winchester, England  
18__th__ December 2006 _

_Dear Mello: _

_It has been merely five days, but you have managed to kill almost five hundred criminals around the world within such a timeframe… I can see that you are enjoying the Death Note. I am glad that you have accepted the reality of the notebook, and that you are using its power for the good of mankind. What a pleasant thing to do—I shall consider this the best Christmas gift I've ever received! Mere words on paper cannot express the immensity of my gratitude towards you. _

_In any case, all I need to tell you is that around this time, you should prepare for a guest. Do not worry, Whammy's House will allow this individual to come in. All you need to do is to prepare ripe apples. Perhaps five or ten apples will do?_

_(Be careful when you get the apples! The guest shall also visit your opponent on the same day.)_

_Finally, let me digress: did you know that this wave of heart attacks has been given names? Americans have called it _The Killer Killer_, while European intelligentsia dubbed the phenomenon simply as _Thanatos_. However, my personal favourite has to be the Japanese name, which is _Kira_. It is simple, and yet, does it not fit all our roles perfectly?_

_I quite like the name for myself—I hope you do not mind that I use it in my letters to you. _

_Regards, _

_Kira_

* * *

The visitor arrived at precisely 3 in the afternoon, mere moments after Mello finished re-reading Kira's latest letter.

"You're… a death god…" whispered Mello. There was a subtle, yet unmistakable trembling in his voice.

The monster nodded. Cheerfully, he said, "Yeah, I'm a death god. The same one on the rules of the Death Note. My name is Ryuk. Nice to meet you!"

Admittedly, it was a scene that would never happen again. It's not so much that a giant winged creature with the appearance of an old-school heavy metal rock star was in Mello's dorm room, and that it sounded like he had no intentions of eating any children and so on and so forth.

It's just that the normally graceful Mello fell off his chair. Plus, for one special moment in his life, he looked genuinely terrified and lost his poise. As he sat on the floor, his bottom a bit sore, he breathed in deeply and muttered again, in a low voice tensed with irritation: "Don't surprise me like that next time, Ryuk."

The death god only laughed at him. "Eh, sorry about that, kid. I didn't mean to give you a heart attack this early, he he he! It's a cheap thrill of mine to scare humans like this." He floated over to Mello's desk, where a fruit bowl filled with apples was placed. "Ah, here are the apples that I asked for, eh? As expected. That guy's good!"

There was pure joy in Ryuk's voice when he said that. Mello could only ponder upon his own amazement as he watched him eat one crunchy apple after another. Somehow, all the eeriness from Ryuk's appearance disappeared.

Ryuk only needed a little less than two minutes to finish ten apples. He used his dull grey tongue to lick the juices off his teeth and mouth. "Man, those apples are juicy. I hope that other one got me the same ones, ku ku ku…"

Mello didn't know whether to feel grossed out, or laugh at the absurdity of it all. He reached out for a sheet of normal white paper from his desk and wrote, "Anyhow, first things first, Ryuk. The rules say that once a human touches any part of the notebook, he will be able to recognize the death god who owns the notebook. I'm assuming that the other guy can hear your voice. So write down your messages instead."

The monster looked dumbfounded for a moment. He had an _oh yeah, I forgot about that _look on his face as he took out a heavy-looking black pen from his pouch and wrote down words on the paper, in English:

"Yeah, I hear you."

Mello nodded curtly. "So what is the purpose of this visit?"

"Oh, that. Basically, I'm here to introduce myself to you. Kira wanted to make sure that you can use all of the features of the Death Note. If you have any questions about the Death Note, or if you want to make the eye deal, or if you want to give up ownership of the notebook, you have to do it with me."

Mello nodded. "That is very sensible of Kira," he wrote.

"The most systematic human I've ever seen… although he's a pretty strange guy, like you." Ryuk's smile got a little wider.

"… I see."

"Ah, but I'm not supposed to say who he is. He says that it's more interesting this way."

_So… unless this death god is lying, Kira is really a man. _"That's to be expected from a guy like Kira." Mello wrote this with a smirk.

Ryuk's grin widened again. He seemed to want to say something out loud, but decided against it. "Anyhow, M. I assume that you know what the eye deal is all about."

"You are correct."

_He he he… _Somehow, at the mention of the eye deal, the aura around Ryuk got more and more sinister. His wings rose ever so slightly, making shadows grow on his face. His eyes glowed red, and the light shone on his teeth, making them look sharper… deadlier.

Mello watched him warily. What was this death god doing?

Ryuk slipped the pen back into his pouch and, with his demonic voice, whispered, "So… how about it, Mello? The ticket to winning Kira's game, for half of your remaining life. Do you want to make the eye deal?"

The boy stared at death god. Narrowed his abnormally large eyes and turned away. Looked up to the ceiling in thought. Even ate a chocolate bar, slowly and deliberately, melting each bite in his mouth rather than chewing.

All the while, Ryuk's sinister aura never faded.

Finally, Mello dropped the chocolate wrapper, now clean of all traces of chocolate. He took his pen and calmly wrote, "I will do no such thing."

Ryuk did not say anything, but never lifted his gaze from him.

Mello laughed once. _Kira, why were you stupid enough to share your powers to us? To me, of all people? You have no idea what you're getting into. _"I do not need the death god's eyes to win. I'll kill the other guy. I'll kill Kira. I'll get the real Death Note, and I'll use it for myself," he wrote.

Ryuk shook. "Oh?" he uttered softly, although it was loaded with a playful, amused curiosity not befitting a death god.

"That's the way to win, Ryuk. Without Kira and the other guy, I can become god of the new world."

The sinister aura around the death god disappeared.

"I was right. Humans are interesting," was the last thing he said before he left Mello and vanished through the wall.

Even when Mello tried to follow him, Ryuk was lost from sight.

* * *

Two days later was a Saturday. It was a special Saturday, at that: the children were going to be treated for lunch outside the House, after which they will visit a candy shop and a toy store. That morning, everyone was fussing and rushing towards the bus, save for a group of older kids.

Mello, Matt and Near were still in the lobby. The youngest boy was on the floor, quietly playing with robots that he would eventually take with him on the field trip. Meanwhile, the two older boys were taking their time putting stuff inside their bags.

"Right… I got my DS, my DS Lite, my PSP, my iPod… wallet… smokes… looks like I'm all set," muttered Matt. Just as Mello tried to peek into the contents of his bag, Matt zipped it closed.

The bus outside honked impatiently. Mello glanced at the anxious faces through the windows. Wait, somebody was missing…

"Tch. You think we should make the old bats wait a little longer, Mels?" asked Matt, with a dull look on his face. He deliberately stood up very slowly, making a show of hanging one of the 'arms' of the backpack over one drooping shoulder.

The blond paused, and then unzipped his bag again.

(That pause was all it took to make Near look up from his toys, and onto him.)

"I forgot my sunglasses, Matt. I'll be right back."

"Eh? Mello, it's snowing outside. You don't need sunglasses unless you're a diva, or a _madao._"

It was the same useless side comment. Mello didn't even bother to process what Matt was saying. He stood up from his seat and, without any efforts of hurrying, left Matt, Near, and his bag behind.

(As he left, he heard Matt mutter, "Tch. Mello's such a girl when it comes to style.")

He went towards the dorms, walking slowly on purpose. The hallways were strangely silent, and without the usual bustle of children, the sound of his footsteps somehow seemed colder and more isolated. He knew that if somebody was still up there, he'd hear it—

Sure enough, there were footsteps coming from upstairs. They were unhurried, regular, and concise. A person without a schedule was obviously up there.

As if he weren't quiet enough before, Mello attempted to control his breathing a little bit more. He then took of his boots, making sure not to make unnecessary sounds as he did so. He carried the boots, and with just his socks on the December-chilled floor, he padded upstairs.

It was on the third floor when he saw it: an elderly man in a thick, dark red sweater and khaki pants. His right arm carefully cradled two white A4 envelopes as he cautiously closed the door of room 313 behind him.

(That pince-nez perched on his face was unmistakable.)

The person, as it turned out, was no-one else but Roger Ruvie.

_That's Near's room, _thought Mello, with a look of mild surprise etched on his face. He then watched as the headmaster walk almost robotically towards room 316.

_Don't tell me those are Kira's letters…_

A few seconds later, he emerged again, but this time with one envelope left. For one reason or another, Roger straightened out his sweater first before going towards the stairs.

That second was all Mello needed to avoid Roger's path. With his boots in his arms, he slipped downwards and slid into a shadowed area of the second floor hallway.

Roger seemed to not have noticed that anybody was stalking him. Actually, it was more like he was unaware of anything else that was happening outside of his mission. As soon as he reached the second floor, he walked very near to where Mello was hiding, and ducked into a room.

When he emerged a few seconds later, there were no envelopes in his hands. He silently closed the door behind him and walked away.

Mello waited for the sound of footsteps to completely fade before he went out of the shadow. It only took a few steps for him to be able to stop and stare dumbly at the door that the headmaster opened.

_204… that's Linda's room… isn't it?_

* * *

When he reached the lobby, Matt was the only one waiting for him. His dull appearance was complemented nicely by the honking noise of the bus, as well as impatient children shrieking for them to hurry up so they can leave. The noise that leaked from outside of the house contrasted sharply to the deathly silence of the hallway.

With those goggles on his face, Mello couldn't see Matt's eyes. But he felt a slight suspicion coming from his stare. "Took you long enough, Mels. You don't even have your sunglasses with you," he commented.

A little acting was needed here. "I changed my mind, and I guess I got a little lost. What's it to you?" grumbled Mello. He took his backpack from the sofa with a little more force than necessary.

Matt raised his eyebrow at this sudden outburst. It only took him a moment to come up with a mischievous smile. "You took a dump, didn't you?"

_… I suppose that's a good enough excuse. _

Matt's grin widened when Mello didn't speak. "I'm right, aren't I? Hahaha! I bet it was a little more watery than usual, huh, Mels? Ah, don't worry if it was, your stomach probably got cold or something… anyhow, if you _like, _I won't tell anybody else, but everything comes with a price… if you see what I'm saying? Hahahaha!"

Mello forced his cheeks to get a little redder. As if trying to dodge Matt's victory hoots, he stormed out of the lobby and into the outdoors.

* * *

Evening. Whammy's House residents had arrived home ten minutes before, and as they waited for dinner to be served, many of them were still exhausted and mildly giddy about their day in the "normal world".

Among the excited buzz of children's voices, two of the top three seemed to be deflecting all the joy. This, however, was pretty natural for the usually lax Matt. He masterfully tapped the stylus of his Nintendo DS onto the bottom screen. "I didn't think that a candy shop and a toy store could be so damned boring," he deadpanned.

"Un," noised Mello, his teeth half-way through a newly purchased Cadbury milk chocolate bar. "It's great that we don't have to pay for anything though."

"Nah, it sucks because the old bats have to look at what we want to buy. I had my eyes on _GTA: Vice City, _you know… even while I was just _thinking _of sneaking it into the purchases, that lab guy hit the back of my head…"

"Eh, it's pretty easy to guess what you're thinking," said Mello, with a voice that seemed clearer than usual.

Right before it tapped on the screen again, the stylus stopped.

"Oh… you think so, Mels?" asked Matt. His voice was the same as always—dull and slightly slurred, not serious at all. And yet…

It was hard to notice, but Mello sensed it was there: a split-second of silence, where he felt that Matt was in the midst of a moment of piercing clarity.

"Sure it is. You—" Before Mello could answer Matt's question, he felt a heavy hand clamp onto his shoulder.

He turned around. The headmaster was there, with a rather bewildered Linda behind him. He looked a little different this time—his usually stern face seemed a little more tensed, and his pince-nez somehow formed a shadow over his small eyes. "Roger," Mello said, in slight astonishment.

"Mello, Matt, come with me," he said, with a voice so firm that the other kids who heard smiled naughtily at each other, as if they _knew _that someone was going to get a 'nice talk'.

Mello and Matt had no choice, of course, and they hastily stood up and followed the old man. Matt gave a questioning glance to Linda, who shook her head and mouthed "I don't know" in the same bewildered manner.

They stopped when Roger stopped—he crouched over to a small person hiding behind a tall house of cards and said, "Near, stand up. My office."

With the smallest hint of annoyance in his dark eyes, the white-haired boy stood up and padded towards them.

Now the top four students were following the headmaster away from everyone else. Suddenly, all eyes were on them, and silence and a tension hung heavily in the air.

_Roger… what are you up to?_

As they left the living room, a merciless buzzing exploded in the common room. "Is it L? L? L? Is somebody slipping from the rankings? Is that it?" Those snippets were enough to make Mello's blood boil.

_Dumbasses. But I can't think about them now, _he thought, looking ahead. Roger's balding head was facing straight ahead, with no unnecessary movements whatsoever as he walked. It was that same strange, robotic way of walking that Mello saw that morning, and somehow he had guessed what this was all about.

He glanced briefly at the other three. They were silent, but that's to be expected—the three of them rarely ever talked to each other, and mostly it was just Matt when he felt like making fun of somebody.

But this time was slightly different: an abnormal seriousness was on their faces. Mello closed his eyes momentarily. _It's as if they also know what this is all about._

(Well, except for Near. It was hard to read into anything that went on in his mind. He looked the same as always: eyes of a dead fish and a slightly downward-turning mouth.)

Finally, they reached the Headmaster's office. Roger opened the door, let them trail in, pressed the lock, and closed it.

Instinctively, the top four collected themselves at the space in front of Roger's desk. He automatically took a seat behind this desk, clasped his hands on the surface, and faced them silently.

For a few moments, none of the children said anything. None of them seemed to have the intention of breaking the silence. As if the one who spoke first would lose the game.

Near automatically slumped to the floor in his usual way and stared at the floor. Somehow, it seemed as if he just remembered that he didn't have any toys with him. Impatiently, Matt stepped from side to side with his hands in his pockets. Linda was stiff: it was obvious that she wasn't used to trouble, and thus was not used to being called into any of the administrators' offices.

Mello crossed his arms and suppressed a sigh. _Wrong game, guys. _"What is it, Roger?" he asked in exasperation.

As an answer, Roger mindlessly pushed his pince-nez up the bridge of his nose.

_The hell? _

Not being able to take the strangeness anymore, Linda said, "Roger, did any of us do anything? Because—"

She was cut off when he put his hand up. "Wait for it," was all he said, after a few moments of awkward silence.

Before anybody could comment on the absurdity of Roger's behaviour, he suddenly uttered a strange, pained cry. The hand that was suspended in the air found itself clenched on the blood-red material of his sweater, and his head banged on the table really loudly and violently.

And after that, he didn't move.

A clock outside rang. It was precisely seven in the evening when the heart attack happened.

* * *

_Rm. 316, Dormitory Building__  
Whammy's House  
Winchester England  
21__st__ December 2006_

_Dear Mello: _

_I cannot guess when and where you will have the chance to read this letter. However, I am confident that Roger did his job well, and that there is no way that you could miss this message of mine. _

_I apologize about what happened to dear Roger Ruvie, by the way. He was the one I manipulated with the Death Note, in order for my messages to reach you and your opponent… so, it was inevitable that he would die. And yes, I made it so that all four of you would see his death. Again, I am sorry if it caused some turmoil for you. But ultimately, this way of dying was necessary. You will understand why sooner or later. _

_In any case, I hope this experience of death makes you a little better at becoming a killer, Mello. Death is different when it happens in front of you, isn't it? It is not the romanticized stuff of murder mystery novels and TV dramas. Now that you've seen how it happens, hopefully you'll become a better player. _

_Anyhow, back to the game. Your next task, Mello, is to leave Whammy's House ASAP. Why, you ask? It is simple: to play in such a close proximity as your opponent is both too dangerous for the other residents and too uncomplicated for the players, I'm afraid. For this game to become more meaningful, it is important to throw in new challenges every now and then. Ha ha ha! _

_That's it, Mello! I shall give you until tomorrow to leave. If you are still in the orphanage after that, it is game over._

_All the best, _

_Kira_

_- Chapter 02 end - _

Notes: Long chapter. I'm sorry. I'm a little worried that this is getting a little too easy, but I'll still keep on writing anyway :D

So. I killed Roger again. That's the second time I did it. Poor old man. That is one mean Kira! I didn't expect Kira to be so mean, but then again, Kira really _is _a big meanie, if you think about it…

Anyways, some words about Linda: I know it really wasn't said in the manga or anime that she's ranked the fourth in Whammy's, but to make things easier for myself, I did that. Ha ha ha.

Thanks for reading this chapter, and please watch out for the next one. :)


	3. 03: Vasoline

**Kira Game**  
Chapter 03: Vasoline

_(Isn't you, isn't me, search for things that you can't see__  
__Going blind, out of reach, somewhere in the Vasoline)_

* * *

When he opened the last envelope, there was something new that stood out from the last letters: a seal in the form of a black "K" in old English font.

_Just like L's L. _Mello smirked.

The last letter from Kira was enclosed with five fresh pages of the Death Note. Mello tore some of the pages into smaller pieces, while others he kept intact in the original envelope that Kira delivered. He kept one little piece inside a tiny compartment in his wrist watch, along with a small needle.

_There. All I'll have to do is punch a hole somewhere and use my blood as ink. That should be enough for an emergency. _

With that, he threw more necessities into his bag: extra clothes, money, a bogus school ID (saying that he was Michael Bielefeld, a secondary school student from a certain "SouthBridge Academy"), a butterfly knife, a rosary, twenty Hershey bars, a pack of Kisses, a box of chocolate Pocky, and a bottle of water.

It was three in the morning when he left Whammy's House alone. There was no nostalgia, no heavy feeling, no foreboding: just an almost robotic pace, as if he knew that leaving the orphanage this way was as inevitable as dying.

The snowfall was rather heavy. His silhouette easily disappeared into the cold darkness of the outside world.

* * *

Like always, it was an unknown room in an unknown building in an unknown city in the world. We cannot guess what time it is in that country, but we know that it is dark there—only the soft glow of a solitary MacBook lent some visibility in the area.

From this glow, we see that apart from this MacBook, there was almost nothing else in the room: no tables, chairs, lamps, or even windows. A white tea cup, a piece of cake on an ornate plate, and a small microphone attached to the MacBook were the only other items in the room. The steady hum of an air conditioner could be heard.

Of course, there was a living thing in this scene—a young man, squatting on the space in front of the laptop. He was clad in a long-sleeved white shirt and blue jeans, both too loose for his thin frame. It was hard to see what his face looked like with the minimal lighting in the room: all we can see are the shadows on his face, and the silhouette of spikes on his head.

He pressed a button on the microphone and said, "This is L."

He fell silent as he read a message on the screen: "Headmaster Ruvie died of a heart attack an hour ago."

"I see. What were the circumstances?"

"We aren't sure how it happened. He asked Near, Mello, Matt, and Linda to come with him to his office, and that was where it happened. The top four claimed that it happened unexpectedly—he had the heart attack before he had a chance to speak with any of them. We called for an ambulance, but they confirmed that the headmaster died immediately."

There was a change in L's facial expression. The person on the other end continued, "The children, of course, are devastated. The faculty is, too, so pardon me for my next comment, L… even though this seems to be expected of a man like the headmaster, there is unnecessary panic going on in the orphanage. Some of them believe that this was the work of Thanatos."

"Thanatos… the Killer Killer, or simply Kira."

"Yes."

Much like a child, L bit his thumb in thought.

After a moment of silence, the person on the other line warily asked, "L… are you there?"

_All of the top four definitely witnessed Roger's death. This is… interesting. _"For now, concentrate on calming the residents down. No one should think that this is the work of Kira. Surely this event will affect them in some way, so keep them from hurting each other."

"Hurting? What do you mean by that? I don't think they'd go that far…"

A small smile made its way to L's wide mouth. "Let me put it this way instead: assume that from now on, anything can happen."

The transmission ended after that.

_… but no matter what I do, those four are still going to find their way to me. _

This fragment of L's thought floated out from the nowhere-type of darkness in his mind. The smile vanished from his face.

_Watari… perhaps the time has come to close down the orphanage._

* * *

"Yo, M. What are you doing out here?"

It was eight o'clock AM the next day in a sandwich shop at the Winchester train station. Amongst the crowd of trolley-mobilizing people in thick woolen coats and knit scarves, Mello didn't think he'd stand out with his clothing. But now that Matt had sauntered up to him, in those flashy-colored stripes, feathery yellow vest, and eccentric goggles that he never thought of _ever_ taking off_, _people were glancing at him more than usual.

In the middle of biting into a newly-purchased chocolate bar, Mello narrowed his eyes at Matt and said, "Didn't think I'd see you out here as well, Matt."

"Yeah… none of us thought that we were ever going to see each other outside of school alive and well, if you get what I'm saying." He had his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

(Mello wondered momentarily about his choice of clothing in such cold weather.)

"I get what you're saying."

They stared at each other for some moments.

"Say, you hear anything about Near and Linda?" asked Matt.

Mello shook his head. "You?"

He shrugged. "All I know is that Near left Whammy's. I don't know how he did it, but he definitely wasn't there anymore when I left. I don't know about Linda: didn't see her, didn't ask about her. I can't guess anything, either. It's hard to tell what goes on in that girl's brain."

"I see…" said Mello.

"Anyhow, Mels. Nice seeing you, I guess. I don't need to ask where you're going, do I? You're not going to tell me squat. Don't worry, I'm not pissed or anything. I mean, given what happened there in Roger's office…"

"I know, Matt."

The mass of people around them kept moving monotonously in all directions. The great mechanical noises of a train came ever nearer and ever farther.

"See you when I see you, I suppose." Pulling his gloved hand out of his pocket, he waved dully as he moved away. Mello found it rather funny that a person who dressed as loudly as Matt could have the ability to disappear within a crowd that quickly.

Mello stood up. He had around eighteen minutes before the train to London left without him.

And the world kept turning.

* * *

Near exhaled, looking at the white mist that floated in front of his face as he did.

He was… quietly amused. He had never stayed in the great outdoors this long before. He didn't realize how vast the differences between the cold of the snow and the artificial cold of the refrigerator and air conditioner were.

_Snow is rather stunning, _he thought as he quietly observed a group of ducks slipping and sliding on the frozen pond.

Wait. This was a pretty strange scene, wasn't it? Slightly out-of-character, and what the hell was Near doing, watching a group of ducks hurt themselves on some frozen body of water in a place that didn't look like it was a part of Whammy's House? And why the hell was he marveling at the beauty of nature? This wasn't Near, was it?

To be honest, Near wasn't sure what happened to him, either. It had happened so quickly—too quickly, Roger's death. He knew he should have seen it coming, but didn't. The moment that Roger's hand clawed at his chunky red sweater, Near felt a certain shame rather than fear or shock:

_I should have known that Kira was going to do that. _

Near's face, neutral with just a hint of childlike amusement, turned into a frown.

In the moments after Roger's death, none of them spoke. From his spot on the floor, Near watched the scene with his mouth half-open: Linda, shrieking and fumbling with the lock on the door in an attempt to call for help; Mello and Matt, freezing, then rushing towards Roger with the air of panic almost suffocating them. Dragging the heavy body to the center of the office, they started listening for his pulse and pressing his chest.

And Near…

During the time, all he had said was, "That was a heart attack, wasn't it?"

And when he had said that, the three others stopped dead in their tracks.

Near knew that there was a slight nervousness in his voice when he said it. But, as usual, it was Mello who was the first to complain: "Somebody just fucking died in front of us, and that's all you're going to fucking say?"

It didn't help that all Near did was shrug. From what he could see, Roger was already dead. It didn't look like the type of heart attack that old men got from eating all the wrong meats. It looked as if somebody had stabbed his heart and, with sheer supernatural power, made it stop beating…

And no amount of fussing was going to make Roger any less dead.

Once Matt and Mello confirmed that he had no pulse, all of them fell into a sullen silence. _Somebody just died in front of us, _they all seemed to think, _and who's to blame for it? _

Eventually, one of them spoke. "You guys… what are we going to do?" Linda asked in a small voice.

"Good question," Matt replied in a casual tone that didn't seem appropriate for this particular scene.

And indeed, it was a good question. For a few moments, none of them seemed to want to answer it. Near had felt like smiling or something as he looked at the other three's faces. _You're good, _he had wanted to say, _and you, too. Pretending that you don't know what's going on… _

Finally, Mello spoke. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm leaving."

"Just like that, you're going to leave?" Linda asked him. Rather than angry, her question was just… that. It was strangely quiet for her. Almost dangerous, even. "You're not going to get away with letting us take care of the headmaster all by ourselves…"

"Of course not. I'll tell the faculty what happened here," was all he said before opening the door and exiting the room.

During that time, Near studied Mello's actions intently. _Leaving Whammy's, huh? _

For some reason, after that, the three of them looked at each other. Yes, there was an unspoken agreement there.

_Look at the corpse on the floor. Remember the absurdity of this whole meeting. Think of the meaning of inexplicable heart attacks during this day and age._ There was a reason why all four of them were asked to see this scene, and why Roger had to die.

In that instant, all of them understood.

Eventually, they would have to follow Mello out of the orphanage.

Near sighed. Back on that unknown bench in an unknown park, the ducks on the frozen pond were fighting for a piece of badly burnt bread that a granny had thrown to them. Of the four ducks, only one of them would eventually get that piece of bread, while the others only had to hope to survive on during a bitter winter with less food…

The young, white haired boy stood up. No matter how he looked at it, he would have to search for the other three all by himself.

_Everyone else has to die. That's an inescapable fact. _

His boots crunching on the snowy ground, he put his hands in his pockets and left the park.

* * *

It was in the papers the next day: Whammy's House, a Winchester orphanage founded by Quillsh Whammy, had been closed down. The children were taken in voluntarily by the remaining faculty. Rumors stated that they were still being funded by the inventor, but Mr. Whammy clearly stated that the new institution would not be associated with him anymore.

"The time has come for me to retire as a teacher, really," he had told the journalists. Even on paper, his words sounded oddly dignified. "I am confident that the children shall be nurtured equally as well by the faculty."

The paper had said something useless about 'students outdoing their teachers' someday, in an attempt to liven up such a dull story. In any case, this was the same story that Kira had the good fortune of reading, and, needless to say, this infamous individual quite enjoyed it.

Floating next to the human, Ryuk struggled to read over Kira's shoulder. He cackled when he saw the article's title. "Nicely done… wonder if those kids have time to read the papers, though. I mean, you sent them on the run and all that."

"If they know what's good for them, Ryuk, they must read the papers or, at the very least, watch the news. Especially those two I gave pieces of the note to." The human put the newspaper down. Ignoring slightly ink-stained hands, Kira reached over for a small pink biscuit and bit into it.

"So… what are you gonna do next? I bet they're all over the place now," said Ryuk.

Kira smiled at him. "I have my ways, my dear _shinigami. _After all, what am I without my acquaintances? There will be people who will watch over these children. Besides, if I lose them, then…"

Delicate fingers tapped Kira's lips lightly. A slight smile, and then a gentle statement: "Let's just say that there's nothing L cannot do."

Ryuk laughed.

Like always, it was an unknown room in an unknown building in an unknown town. From this questionable place, Kira pulled another string, and, of course the puppets danced.

_- Chapter 03 end - _

Notes: First of all, my thanks to Indecisive Mind for agreeing to be my beta-reader for this story! :D  
Just to make things clear, there aren't any original characters in the main cast. So if you think that Kira is an OC, I'm telling you right now, Kira ain't an OC. Haha.  
This is shorter than my usual 3000+ word chapters. Oooh, how I struggled to write this chapter. The struggle was so hard that I made Near watch _ducks, _for crying out loud… well, he might have a love for ducks, right? I mean, he played with some ducks in the manga. They were pretty cool ducks too. Wish I had those kinds of toys when I was a kid.  
Anyhow, sorry for the duck rant! Please watch out for the next chapter. More suspects surface, whoa.


	4. 04: Bullet with Butterfly Wings

**Kira Game**  
Chapter 04: Bullet with Butterfly Wings

_(The world is a vampire sent to drain secret destroyers  
Hold you up to the flames  
And what do I get for my pain?  
Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game) _

After arriving in London, Mello knew that the first thing he had to do was to find a place to stay. Doing so had been harder than he thought: he definitely couldn't pass as anything but a 14-year-old, and no one dared to rent a room to a potential runaway. Furthermore, he realized that he was relatively defenseless in this city. Besides the pieces of the Death Note and the butterfly knife in his bag, he had nothing with him that could potentially protect him from depraved beings.

(And despite Kira's wave of killings, he _knew _that such beings still existed in human societies.)

_It would be bad if I got killed or raped or kidnapped by some loser here, _he thought, biting thoughtfully into a chocolate bar as he always did when he pondered upon his next moves.

During the daytime, along with looking for a place to stay, he had used an Internet café and a broadsheet to continue the criminal killings. (How surreal it had been to use the Death Note right next to a person who was just posting a topic about Kira on some second-rate message board online.) After writing down almost a hundred names in one of the pieces of the Note, he satisfied himself with an aimless wander around the city.

He spent a huge chunk of his evening in a fast food place some ways from the London Waterloo Station. It was crowded in there: the place was filled with tired commuters and travelers trudging home from work and perhaps last-minute Christmas shopping. The air was saturated with the scent of grease, frying meats, and overloaded-with-sugar desserts.

_I've got to plan my next move now, _Mello thought, mindlessly playing with the straw of his lone purchase: a regular-sized light Coke.

_First, a place to stay. It would take some amount of effort for me to find a place that would allow a fourteen-year-old student to live by himself. People will worry about responsibility, won't they? Probably call the cops on me. No matter how little they find out about me, the Death Note, and my past at Whammy's, I'm pretty sure that Kira would not enjoy it if I get caught. Might as well commit suicide. _

_Next, I need help, or rather, minions. In order to win this game, I've got to have the most number of resources at hand to corner each and every player: the other Death Note user, the other two from the top four, and Kira… definitely, the Death Note is not enough for me to win this game. I will need the help of an organization, or perhaps another person whom I could manipulate to do dirty jobs for me. _

_Finally, I will need eyes. Kira definitely sent letters to more than two people. He could be lying about the number of Death Note users. He could be lying about a number of other things as well—are we really the only ones who know that Kira is actually at least two of Whammy's House children?_

_No matter. In order to win, I'll have to kill everybody else with the Death Note. It would be impossible to win without the names of Matt, Near, Linda, and Kira. But… _

Mello looked at his hands. He had only realized that he was subconsciously twisting and crushing the straw with his right hand. When he let go, it was already too mutilated to take a decent sip of cola with.

… _no. I'll never make the eye deal. _

He stood up from his table and hooked his backpack onto his shoulder.

_After all, a god is pretty useless with just half of his lifetime remaining._

* * *

Eventually, Mello had to leave the fast food place. It was already nearing midnight, and he grew weary of the empty, endless noise of the late-night crowd.

As it always happens, this and that makes you forget where exactly you're going—indeed, it makes you forget whether or not you had somewhere to go to in the first place. Buildings, snow, Christmas lights, stray animals, the mindless hum of Christmas songs from the dying nightlife. People with ruddy cheeks, gloved fingers numb from the cold and the many shopping bags hooked on their fingers. Unnoticed by this momentary crowd, Mello passed through these scenes like a ghost. He was barely aware of the life in this cold city at midnight.

Before he knew it, he was facing a particularly dark alley. It was merely a space between two walls, with garbage cans littered on the monotony of brick and concrete. There was no one there, save for a skinny black cat with protruding fangs.

It was a mistake for him to duck into that alley. He realized, after a few moments, that it was a dead end.

_Damn. I've been away from Whammy's for one day, and already I'm getting stupid, _he thought to himself in irritation.

He stopped.

There was another shadow on the wall, and it didn't belong to him or the emaciated black cat.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. It was extremely difficult to notice it, but there it was: the sound of calm, controlled breathing.

Staring at the shadow on the wall, he said, "Bastard… who are you?"

He imagined that the shadow smiled evilly at him. He ducked, and he saw a bare foot zip above him.

Mello turned around, and before he could even get a chance to see this assailant of his, he had to dodge two kicks and a swipe with what seemed like a real claw, all targeted at his head. He tried to run, but the person was extremely quick. With movements much like a monkey's, but with a fierceness and blood-thirstiness like a tiger's, he crouched, pounced, and viciously attacked Mello.

It took every ounce of energy to avoid all those fatal blows, and Mello was afraid that he would pass out from exhaustion, even if he didn't get hit. Finally, two blurs hit his shoulder. The boy was flung backwards and fell hard against a brick wall.

"F… fuck!" His right hand grasped his aching shoulder shakily. Mello had hoped that the pain would numb, but apparently the hits were designed to be excruciating.

His face hidden behind his unruly hair, the assailant smiled. A sinister flash of white came from his grinning mouth.

In a voice that was too pained for his liking, Mello cried, "W… what the hell was that for?! Fuck… fuck!"

The guy shrugged. He wasn't in a fighting stance anymore. Instead, he was standing in a peculiar way: a terrible slouch, in which his spine was bent forwards in an almost impossible angle. In a mockingly casual manner, he had his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans. Even though he wasn't wearing a coat or shoes during this snowy night, he didn't appear to be cold at all.

That smile never left his lips.

A sheltered boy like Mello probably should have been panicking, given such a situation: after all, the guy could be one of those depraved serial murderers/rapists who deserved to have their names written in the Death Note. But instead, an unnatural anger flowed in his veins, and all he could think of was to scream at the guy. "Who the bloody hell are you? Why the hell are you trying to beat me up?"

The guy raised one of his hands and hung one of his fingers on his lower lip. "Oh, no reason, Mello. I suppose I just felt like it."

Mello was about to say something else, but stopped upon hearing his alias. His eyes, wide open before from bewilderment and anger, narrowed with suspicion.

… _Kira…_

When he saw this, the guy sighed and scratched the back of his head. With what seemed to be a strange mixture of various American and English accents, he said, "Damn, shouldn't have said that, huh? I wanted to make this a little more exciting. I should have just revealed that I know you at the very end. That would have made a better thriller. In any case, playtime's over, I guess."

Mello didn't respond. He watched as the guy slowly stepped towards him, bare feet barely making a sound on the dirty, snowy concrete. When he was merely a step away from the boy, he crouched down and peered into his face.

It was a terrible, hidden face that showed itself to him. Most of it was covered in bandages, and the small patches of skin that Mello could see peeking underneath seemed to be raw, or else badly burnt. Big eyes, slightly tinged with red, stared mercilessly back at him.

_Those burns… _Mello's eyes widened in recognition.

"Nice to meet you, Mello… or, should I say, Player 1. I am B."

A heavily bandaged hand suspended itself in mid-air, begging for a handshake.

"B," Mello repeated with an incredulous look on his face.

"Yes. The same one you probably saw in the papers ages ago," he replied. The smile on his face was brimming with a twisted sort of pride. "Of course, back in LA, they called me BB. I find it a tad too comical for myself. The way some people say it in this country, they make it sound like 'baby'. I don't think I look like a baby… do you, Mello? In fact, I think I look more like the type who eats babies… but of course, that's only an inconsiderate stereotype."

Mello paid no attention to his rambling. "You called me Player 1. You were talking about the Game a moment ago."

"I was, wasn't I?"

"Yes, you were. So, what exactly are you, B?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he waved his suspended hand around. Not bothering to hide his uneasiness, Mello shook it. Without warning, he was pulled upward by B.

The pain on his shoulders, of course, worsened. He yelled in pain and gripped them desperately with two hands.

To add to his annoyance a little more, B said in a dull voice, "If that's all it takes to kill you, you definitely aren't going to win the game. That's too bad."

_Is that it? Is Kira testing me again? Did he send me this person so that I can kill him? Or did he send this person to kill me?_

Gritting his teeth, Mello growled, "You want to die, Beyond Birthday? Is that it?!"

B smiled. "You think you can do it, Mello? I don't see any pen or paper in your hands…"

_There's a piece in my watch, _thought the younger boy, but he suddenly realized that it would be for nothing, because B's face was covered in bandages. All he knew was the name.

As if he could read his mind, B laughed. His voice sounded like a terribly scratched record. "I guessed as much, Mello. Probably don't remember what I look like now, do you? Ah, poor you, I'm really having trouble believing that you're the number one betting horse in the Game… Anyhow, you shouldn't worry too much about me. Unless circumstances state otherwise, I am neither your friend nor foe."

"Then… what are you?" asked Mello. _And more importantly, should I believe you?_

"Just a part of the audience."

"Audience…" A part of Kira's letter replayed itself on Mello's mind. He repeated this for B: "A lot of people are counting on me to win."

"Precisely." B grinned.

Mello glared at him. "What does that mean?" he demanded.

"It means, my dear _zaychik, _that I am one of those people who firmly believe that you are going to win."

The boy narrowed his eyes, the pissed-off glare never leaving them. There were still parts of the letter that he didn't understand, but now a good part of it was making sense. Realizing the extent of Kira's manipulation, he felt terribly irritated. "In other words… there are people like you who would bet on us."

"Correct."

_How sickening. Kira, I thought it was bad enough that you used the Death Note as merely a toy, but no… as it is, the four of us are killing each other so you can have some extra money along with the fun! Unforgivable, you bastard. You deserve to die._

Despite the new bruises on his body, Mello attempted to stand up a bit straighter. _From the beginning, you never deserved the name Kira… _

_I'll have to take what's rightfully mine. _"So… how much did you bet on me?"

"Confidential information," replied B in a monotonous voice.

It was a little too much for Mello at this point. "Asshole… do you want me to kill—"

"Hahaha! Mihael Keehl, do you really think that you're in the position to threaten me?"

Mello froze, a look of disorientation on his face.

When he didn't move, B laughed again. "Ah, my little Miha… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you like this. But really, just because you've a few measly pieces of the Death Note with you doesn't give you the right to be obnoxious! Take it from me: the most humble killers are the ones who become the most notorious…"

All the while, the look of mania on his face grew and grew. B was having a good time laughing, and even though his eerie voice echoed dangerously all over the alley, he couldn't stop. Finally, he said, "It's all right, I won't do anything with your name… it would be stupid of me to broadcast your name on BCB, because you won't win. And I certainly wouldn't want that to happen. So don't look at me like that, please. It's giving me the heebie-jeebies."

Mello didn't soften his gaze.

B sighed. "Ah, I can't get along with my betting horse… this is a shame. Anyway, I've wasted enough time." As he said this, he stuck his hand inside his L-style shirt and took out a white A4 envelope. The gothic letter "K" seal was unmistakable. He tossed this to Mello, who caught it with one hand.

"Right. I'll see you when I see you, Mello," was all B said before turning around to leave.

Watching this strange man leave, Mello barely felt the white envelope gripped in his hands.

Right before he disappeared, B turned around. The maddening glint in his eye returned as he told him, "I really want you to win, Mello. If you lose and manage to survive, I'll kill you."

* * *

_There you were, sitting awkwardly at a small booth in a fancy restaurant, looking and feeling much like a sore thumb amongst the lavish crowd. A rather tall man in an expensive Armani suit sat comfortably in front of you. He had just sent away the waiter after ordering some French dish with fish and some curious vegetables that you've never seen served in Whammy's House. _

_Yes… you suddenly remembered Whammy's House. Meeting with strangers like this was something you've never practiced in the orphanage. This must have been one of the most awkward moments in your life. _

_This guy—he called himself A, didn't he?—he came out of nowhere, with a warm smile and a friendly gesture. "Good day," he said, "Want to do lunch with me?" _

_That was all very creepy, of course. You have never met your mother before in your entire life, but you didn't need her words of wisdom to think that there was good sense in the adage 'Don't talk to strangers'. The wisest course of action for you to do was to turn around and walk away fast, and you would have done that too, if only… _

_If only he didn't show you that white envelope he had hidden inside his shirt. _

_Yes, that black K that sealed the flap was Kira's. No question about it. _

_In the restaurant, he was all smiles when he told you, "Don't worry too much about me or where I came from, P2. Hey, do you mind if I called you that?" _

_You shook your head. You decided that you didn't need to tell him that you found the nickname really annoying. _

_Wine glass in hand, he looked at you as you stared uneasily at the envelope lying on the table, with the "K" seal face-up. Somehow, he found this very amusing, and much to your annoyance, he began laughing. _

"_What's so funny?" you demanded. _

"_You, of course. All uptight and stuff. I mean, I expected this behavior from some of the other kids at Whammy's, but not you. I guess this Game's harder than I realized." _

_Narrowing your eyes, you asked him, "What's your role in the Game?"_

_Breezily, he answered, "I can't say I'm a catalyst or anything. Just your everyday messenger. I just happen to have very strange clients, that's all." _

_You weren't sure what to think. You didn't know much about Kira, or Xavier Voltaire as he called himself before, but you were pretty sure that he would never bring in random bums to serve as messenger-men to the players of the Game. This guy had to be linked to Whammy's House in some way… _

"_Anyhow, P2, put that envelope out of plain sight. I don't know what I'll do with you if you lose it… I reckon that _that guy _wouldn't enjoy it if that happens, if you get what I'm saying," he said in a rather loud whisper. _

_You didn't like that guy at all, that's for sure. It was at that point that you stood up and said, "Thank you for delivering the envelope." And then you turned to leave. _

_He called out to you, "What about lunch?" _

_And all you had to say was, "I don't like fish." _

_Later, when you had a stall all to yourself in the restrooms, you opened the envelope and found more evidence that Kira wasn't a straight-laced guy:_

_Along with a typewritten letter and more pieces of the Death Note, he gave you a passport, a college student's ID, and a driver's license, all of them with the same fake name and birthday, plus 5,000 pounds cash._

* * *

The morning before A and B paid a visit to P1 and P2, Linda was twiddling her thumbs on a train that was waiting for passengers to board.

Roger's death had left a strange taste in her mouth, and it seemed that everything she was experiencing had a surreal feeling to it. Even as she sat in that empty compartment, she remembered that she had ridden a train before only once in her life, and that was when she went to Winchester to study at Whammy's House.

Trying to ignore the "this is pretty unreal" mantra that her mind had taken on, she eyed the glass panel to her side and decided that the train station would be a pretty cool thing to sketch. She rummaged through her backpack in search of her trusty sketchpad and a Derwent sketching pencil.

_Hmph… I should have brought something to put all these papers in… My stuff is a mess!_

Before she found it, though, a familiar voice said, "Anybody sitting here?"

She turned around sharply, her pigtails swooshing around her head like a whip. "M… Matt! What are _you _doing here?" she said in surprise. "And you know you're not supposed to smoke here…"

Matt, with his backpack slung over one shoulder, ambled inside the compartment and took a seat across from Linda. "Same as you. Heading off to London. And I'll do whatever I like," he answered lazily. As if to emphasize his point further, he raised his feet and placed them on the empty seat next to her.

She looked at this with distaste. _Maybe I should give up on the sketching, now that he's here, _she thought to herself as she zipped her bag closed. "I didn't realize that _everyone_ was running away from Whammy's," she said in annoyance.

"Eh… you should know why we're running away, Linds. I mean, you were there when 'this and that' happened, if I remember correctly. Anyway, what were you up to?" asked Matt as cigarette smoke came out of his nostrils.

At the mention of 'this and that,' her annoyed expression changed. Somehow, her pigtails seemed a bit… _droopier, _and a hint of sadness rose in her eyes. When Matt saw this, he moved his mouth in a weird way.

Finally, she said, "I wanted to sketch something to pass the time."

He nodded. Much to Linda's discomfort, he leaned forward and stared at her face for a long time. He seemed to be watching how her eyes darted from side to side, how her fingers twisted and turned and gripped at each other, and how she tended to freeze under pressure.

Finally, he said, "Nah… you're just scared. That's what it is, Linds."

It's his usual non-sequitur type comment, but all the same, the girl flinched. _Where did that come from? _she thought nervously._ Why is he acting like he can read my mind? Matt, what's wrong with you? _

After a moment of ill silence, all she said was, "… you're right, Matt. I guess."

"You guess."

"Yeah."

The train made a sound. Moments later, more violent sounds were heard, and the train slowly moved away from the station.

"Listen, Linds... if you want to hear something interesting, I've got something for you."

_- Chapter 04 end - _

Notes: "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins fits B so well! Man, I think I'll write a B-centered story using that song… after I finish this story. Whoa.

By the way, just so you know, B is based on most of NISIOSIN's "Another Note", except that Kira didn't kill him by a heart attack. (Well… at least not yet. Or not ever. Hahahaha.) And I put him in bandages to make him a little cooler. :D

Another note: According to an article by John Marone on Ukraine-observer dot com, _zaychik _is a Russian term of endearment, used by girls to the guys they like. Just in case you're curious about what it means. And _Miha _is a nickname for the Slovene name Mihael. :P

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. I don't usually ask for reviews, but this time, I'd like to know your theories and observations and such, just to see how the readers perceive the events so far. (I really think it's getting a little too easy, hahaha!) Watch out for the next chapter, whoooa!


	5. 05: Pennyroyal Tea

**Kira Game**  
Chapter 05: Pennyroyal Tea

_(Sit and drink pennyroyal tea__  
__Distill the life that's inside of me__  
__Sit and drink pennyroyal tea__  
__I'm anemic royalty)_

* * *

It was a massive room befitting a languid scene of a sci-fi movie: one glance, and one would see around thirty plus LCD screens, data storage cubes with hundreds of lights blinking in unison, keyboards and buttons of all shapes and sizes, and wires of almost impossible lengths and densities, tangled and twisted and plugged into the dark walls.

A finely-crafted wooden desk and a matching wooden chair were at the center of this room. There were intricate carvings of flowers and leaves on the edges and legs, and one would think that such furniture seemed out-of-place in such a setting. On the surface of the desk was a MacBook, a tray with a bowl of pistachio ice cream, and a black notebook.

This refined center was where Kira sat. A cup of tea within a rather frail grasp, the killer lazily eyed one of the LCD screens on the right.

This one was playing a five-minute video clip burned on DVD. In it, a man in a formal blue suit was shown clutching his chest and disappearing from plain sight. A split second of static, and a single letter _L _in gothic font invaded the screen.

"_I don't believe it," _said L, the person known by the world as a distorted and disembodied voice on screen.

It was, of course, L's broadcast to England, where he successfully pinpointed where in the world the killer resided. "Kira," as was addressed by the mysterious detective, had just killed the L decoy by a heart-attack induced long-distance. As he told England and the rest of the world that he, L, was going to hunt him down, there was an unashamed astonishment in his voice. It was as if L knew that this was going to be a deadly job…

Listening to this, Kira dropped another sugar cube into the cup of tea.

"_Kira. It would interest me greatly to know how you carry out your killings. But that is something I can find out after I capture you."_

Kira's eyes fell on the black notebook on his desk. _Funny, it's all right here, _he thought. _And yet, at the same time, it's all over the place. _

Yes, it was one of the children who killed the fake L. Kira was glad that they did it without prior instruction. _These children are learning how to take initiative, _the killer thought, _and perhaps they did it in order to impress me. Or, perhaps, to impress L with what they can do. _

Kira only had a slight lamentation. _I wonder which one of them did it, though. Which one of them has the gall to challenge L? _

_In any case, now that there is L in the equation, things can only get a little more interesting._

_Just as planned. _A small smile graced the killer's lips.

Just when the tea was ready for sipping, one of the LCD screens began flashing urgently. There was an incoming call from one part of the world, it seemed, and it wasn't addressed for Kira's alterego.

The killer sighed. He had no intention of answering the call. He merely pressed a button, and the flashing stopped. Another person would handle that call.

Right now, the tea must be enjoyed. After all, it was difficult to get the sweetness just right. (And Kira was a person who knew the sweetness of sweetness, so to speak.)

_Siiiiiip. _"Aah." Amazing tea. Kira's extended pinkie wiggled in delight. Ever since the Game began, he rarely had moments of comfort like this one. It wasn't something to be regretted—after all, the success of this Game would mean the fulfillment of Kira's greatest wish—but all the same, amazing cups of tea like this one were cups of tea to be missed.

But alas, it was only a fleeting moment of warmth. Another LCD screen flashed, begging for attention.

Kira looked at the identification and pressed a button. "W. What was it about?"

The person on the other line said, "The caller was one of those tycoons in the US who bet on Player 2. They were concerned about how the kids will act now that L is in the picture. They were afraid that they'd lose the bet. I managed to smooth things over with them by saying that the kids can handle L, but I know that if L makes any drastic public moves again, they will back out from the Game."

"I see… I'll have to do something about that, I suppose."

"I'd say so."

Kira exhaled a little too loudly. "W. I will need you to come to England. That mission in the United States will just have to wait."

"… I understand, K. I'll fly out of LA, ASAP." With that, W ended the call.

Kira stood up and, in the darkness, walked towards one of the windows in the room. Staring at the reflection, a thought floated in the killer's mind. _Yes… I can't back out now. This is for the good of the children. No matter what happens, somebody has to win in this Game._

* * *

_Tap. Tap. Tap. _A heavy finger struck down on the helpless button of a computer mouse, and the Google Image Search page scrolled down. Photos upon photos of the same thing appeared.

Mello grit his teeth. _Everything here is useless. _

Over his shoulder, Ryuk stared at the monitor and laughed in his usual gritty voice. "Looking for Beyond Birthday, huh? Hehehe. Sorry Mello, but no apples here. All of those photos won't help you kill him since his face is wrapped up too nicely in bandages. I'll tell you now that I don't see his name when I look at those pictures…"

_Damn it. I could have _sworn _that he had photos of his exposed face before. The LA BB murder case was all over the papers! Whatever happened to those photos…?_

This brought into mind other important things. _B must be in a position of incredible power. He's out of jail, for one thing. He's obviously gone through very effective and expensive therapy to be able to beat me up like that, even though he almost burnt himself to death a couple of years ago. And he has tremendous influence, enough so that he could get the mass media to eliminate photographs of his face… _

Mello closed the window, trying his hardest to steady his shaking hand. _I've got to kill B… I have his name, and I've seen him in person, and I have the Death Note's power… why can't I kill him? This is… fucked up! _

Frustration. Frustration. Frustration. Hot blood rose to his chilled cheeks as he stood up from his booth in the net café and stormed out.

* * *

_A park in London. December 24__th__._

Misora Naomi hung up her phone. It was somewhat of a struggle because she had on thick gloves, and her work phone was a little piece of work with tiny buttons.

_… So cold, _she thought to herself as she slid the phone into her shoulder bag. Even as she thought this, a puff of her white breath invaded her eyesight. The chill in England was different from the chill in Japan or in LA, that was for sure. For one reason or another, she found winter in this country much, much colder.

_Raye, _she thought to herself miserably. _It's always you, really… it must be why I feel a little bit colder… _

She shook her head. No, this was no time to be thinking about sentimental stuff like that. She had a job to do, damnit. Absurd as her mission sounded to her, she knew that it was important for the welfare of the general public… or something along those lines, at least. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish who it was, exactly, that she was working for at a given time.

_Well, a profession's a profession. A mission's a mission. Let's do this. Gambarimasu._

She stood up from the cold park bench and stuck her hands into the pockets of her leather coat. Trying to ignore the sound of dirty snow under her boots, she walked briskly towards the east, where the target of her mission was.

Admittedly, Naomi found this 'quarry' of hers rather strange. For one thing, he was only a kid. And another, he looked like the type who was to be found on the Missing Persons list, not the suspects list of a particularly incredible crime. He looked so small and frail, and sometimes he even had moments where he looked truly lost… and besides, what would people usually think of kids his age who wandered the city alone on Christmas Eve?

(But then again, she was a woman who knew better than to look down on kids like this. She only had to recall that incident of hers with the FBI, involving a drug smuggling operation and a 13-year-old kid who was apparently at the center of it. Back then, her hesitation to capture this guilty child almost cost her her job.

Definitely a moment to remember in a mission like this.)

She found the suspect again. Despite the weather, it wasn't particularly hard looking for a kid whose hair, skin, and clothing were snow-white.

He seemed to have found a quiet spot next to a tree. With one of his feet up, his chin resting on his knee, he quietly read a thrice-folded sheet of white paper. Its envelope was lying neatly next to him.

_I wonder what he's reading there, _thought Naomi in curiosity.

It didn't take long for the boy to finish reading whatever it was. His mouth turning a little more downwards, he kept the sheet of paper inside the envelope, hopped off the park bench, and started walking away.

Naomi waited for a few moments before she started going over to where the kid walked off. But she soon realized that the boy had disappeared. Just like that, he had found a crowd and managed to escape from her eye.

_Damn… he was probably on to me from the very beginning. L's right: spying on this kid will prove to be a challenge._

The Japanese woman exhaled slowly. She turned around, searched for a fairly secluded bench, and decided to do some serious thinking there. Of course, in serious thinking, a thinking pose was required. And so, ignoring the awed stares of a few English passersby, she sat Ryuzaki-style and put her thumb to her chin thoughtfully.

_This Kira suspect, I'll have to admit, is rather suspicious. The fact that L suspects him means that he's more extraordinary than he looks. This kid's been alone for some time now, and it's hard to guess what he's really been up to. All I've seen him do in public is wander around, buy a few things from the toy store, and read letters like this. _

_And as he does these things, criminals keep on dying from heart attacks at irregular intervals. Normally, that should be enough to say that he's not responsible, but then again, L says that we have to consider the fact that the deaths are caused by supernatural forces. _

Naomi paused. _Irregular intervals, eh? I wonder… maybe Kira isn't just one person. Maybe there's more than one killer, which is why the deaths are spaced infrequently… if that's true, then how many of them could be out there?_

From her crouching position, she jumped off her bench gracefully and stood up straight. There was a new glow to her eyes as she gazed at the spot where the child had disappeared.

_This kid, Near… I know that he's noticed me. That's the only reason why he would read those letters in public. He's telling me something about them. I wonder… could these letters have anything at all to do about the criminal deaths?_

Her thoughts were interrupted when her cell phone rang. A bit dazed, she glanced at the ID. An unknown number.

* * *

Mindlessly spinning a pen with his fingers, he asked, "Ryuk, if I wanted the eyes of a death god, how would that play out?"

With a gleeful expression, the death god answered, "It's pretty simple. The Death Note owner tells the death god, _let's make the eye deal. _Instantly, half of the human's lifespan goes to the death god, and the human is able to see the names and lifespans of other humans just by looking at their face—the owner of the face has to be alive, though. It's pretty quick and painless."

The boy twisted his mouth sideways and said inquiringly, "But Kira owns the Death Note. How are any of us supposed to make the eye deal?"

Ryuk opened his mouth for a few moments, taken aback. "Eh…. Oh, yeah. Kira said something about that too. He'll give up ownership of the notebook to you. In effect, since you own the notebook after the deal, you'll be lending the Death Note to Kira and those other guys… it doesn't matter, since borrowers of the note can use the Death Note in any way they want. Oh, and if you're worried that Kira's gonna lose his memories because of this, you gotta know that he's taken measures to prevent that from happening."

"… I see," he replied. _According to the rules, only one of us is allowed to have the eyes. Since Ryuk isn't stopping me, it means that Kira and the other guy didn't make the deal. This is pretty awesome. _

_So, Kira… you don't have the death god's eyes. From the start, I doubted you to be the type of man who would give up half his life for anything. I wonder how you'll plan on killing any of us without our names, though._

_Unless… you're in a position where you don't need to know our names anymore… _

After another moment of thought (which Ryuk spent playing around with an apple), he turned to the death god and said, "I've got nothing to lose, Ryuk. I'll make the eye deal."

Ryuk, taken a bit by surprise, missed catching the apple in his massive mouth. Instead, it bounced off his right eyeball and fell on the floor with a dull "thud". "… eh? Whoa, kid, didn't think anyone would actually do it…"

He nodded. "I'm serious, though," he told him in a light tone.

The death god cackled. "Hehehe. This is an interesting turn of events, I gotta say. You're serious about your little friend, huh," he said with delight.

The boy shrugged in response.

"Anyhow, it's still pretty troublesome that you wanna make the deal. Can't make the eye deal yet, since the notebook doesn't belong to you. I guess I gotta tell that guy to give up ownership and such."

He smiled, but not apologetically. He followed Ryuk with his eyes as the monster floated towards the window and passed through. "Much appreciated," he called out.

"Yeah, yeah," replied Ryuk before he disappeared into the night.

* * *

Christmas Eve, an hour or so before midnight. The church was still open, but there were very few people inside. Even though there were cheery lights and soft humming voices all around, those who knelt or sat at the pews seemed to have an air of despair about them. Perhaps they were poor, lost, or both, and were praying for that final Christmas miracle to change their lives.

Two of them were in this church too. He had seen her come forward to the altar to touch the huge wooden Christ with one shy hand. She had crossed herself then, and as she ambled down center aisle, she met his gaze.

She went a little closer to him and said, "Mello. Didn't think I'd see you again, that's for sure."

At that moment, the boy was on the 6th bead of the 3rd decade of the rosary. He paused, murmuring the _Hail Mary,_and curtly said, "Hello, Linda. It's nice to see you too."

She frowned a little when she heard him speak in such a flat tone, but she decided for some reason to stay there a little longer. She sat down on the space next to him, taking care to smooth her green skirt as she did so.

"I've some ways to go before I finish, you know," said Mello.

"It's all right. I'll wait," she answered plainly.

"Why would you do that?"

"Simple. It's almost Christmas—the first I'll spend outside of Whammy's. I want to make it a little bit familiar… you know, since we all just left all of a sudden. So hurry up and finish praying. I know of a place that's still open later for a cup of hot tea."

Mello stared at her for some moments, which she spent sitting still and facing the altar with a steely look on her face. When it seemed that she was dead serious about what she said, he merely shrugged and continued reciting his prayers.

When Linda's serious, she's serious. She was still there when he murmured his last _amen_ and put his rosary back in his pocket.

"So you're done, huh. Let's get going," she said, jumping to her feet.

Mello narrowed his eyes, but he stood up anyway and followed her out of the Church.

The tea place wasn't that far, she had said, but it wasn't exactly near either. They spent some time walking out in the cold, slushy streets of the town. Surprisingly, in those parts, it wasn't that noisy, and Mello eventually felt compelled to break the silence between them:

"You know, this is weird. We never spoke to each other much at Whammy's House."

Linda didn't look at him as she answered, "If I found Near, I would definitely ask him to spend Christmas Eve with me… actually, if I also found Matt, I'd ask him to hang out with me too. But you're the only one I found, so here we are…"

"So… you were looking for us, huh, Linda."

She gave him a _well, duh _look. "Why wouldn't I be? Why are we all so dead-set on avoiding each other?" She stopped walking and faced him.

The look on her face made Mello stop dead in his tracks, too. Suddenly, she was all sullen and somber: with a tone that's as cold as her gaze, she asked him, "Mello, what would happen if we all found each other, anyway?"

The blond boy frowned. _Are you stupid? I can't believe that you hadn't thought this far ahead yet… _He forced a non-sinister smile on his face as he countered, "Why'd you leave Whammy's if you didn't know?"

"Hmph." She turned around and started walking again. Mello walked a couple of steps behind her.

After some time, he called out with an almost mocking tone, "Lin-der, you didn't answer my question back there. Come on. Don't tell me you left 'cause we left. It would be pretty stupid if you did that."

She stopped again. This time, her head was bowed down.

_What's with her? _thought Mello, flinching only when Linda's shoulders shook violently for some reason.

"Hey… what's wrong?" he was asking, but before he did, she and her strawberry-blonde pigtails turned to him sharply. Strangely, even after that shaking, her eyes were awfully sharp.

Without warning, she stepped towards him, little space remaining between them. Mello didn't know what to think at that moment.

Surprisingly, all she did was say certain shocking things to him: "You know, I'm not exactly sure why I left Whammy's either. I guess it's because Roger died like that in front of us… or, should I say, somebody _killed _Roger in front of us. Funny, isn't it, that I should think that way? I guess I was just really scared, Mello, scared shitless in fact… But there has to be a reason that Roger died right then and there. I doubt that it's any coincidence that the four of us were there, and I doubt that all of us were completely innocent that day.

"That's why I left Whammy's, you know. L has proven to the world that Kira is in England right now. I can't prove anything yet, but I know this much: one of us is Thanatos—or, should I say, Kira. And this Kira among us, he wants to kill the rest of us, and L, and after that, who knows? I sure as hell don't want to find out…"

After saying all this, she stepped back. Mello heard her inhale sharply, as that confession took all her breath right out of her.

Trying to fight his speechlessness, Mello asked warily, "And… why are you telling me all this?"

She looked at him for a few tense moments and laughed. Without a hint of hesitation in her voice, she said, "Simple. I think it's you."

After that, she turned around and left him alone there. It seemed that Christmas tea was cancelled.

_- Chapter 05 end - _

Notes (extra rambling edition): Thanks to Indecisive Mind for the beta-read! It's been totally troublesome, but let's not give up yet! Haha! :D

I know that some people colour her hair in other ways, but I think that Linda's blonde. Seems to fit her too, he he he.

Naomi—I pictured her to be a rather perky girl if it weren't for her 'dark past'. I mean, in the anime, she got all gloomy and scary because Raye died. In the movie, she got all angry and scary because Raye died there too. And in Another Note, she was all anxious because of what happened with her in the FBI and because of Ryuzaki and all that…

And about the rules: I don't know how many rules you can bend or break in the Death Note. I'm having a difficult time remembering everything rule-related that happened in the manga and anime. I have a list of the rules though, so I've decided to stick with them strictly just to be safe :D

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review or something. It's only fun when people get it wrong, you know. XD I hope I can update this soon, but please expect a rather long hiatus, as school will be starting in the next week.


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